The Gift
by HeyYouWithTheFace
Summary: Hermione and Bellatrix share the same birthday. Who will receive the gift this year?    Note: this story has adult themes including non-con.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione hated that the longer she was kept in this house, the more accustomed to it she became. It had been six long, silent months since she traded herself for Harry and Ron, and she'd been left in what seemed like solitary confinement for most of that time. She spent that time going over spells, charms, potions, and historical facts that she'd read what felt like decades ago, but in reality had been only a year. She could remember the smell of the paper in her favourite books, the sound it made when she flipped the pages. The memories of her friends had long since faded, but her books had remained. They taunted her from her bookshelf a life time away and she longed to hear the cracking of the spine of an old book.

There was no relief for her in sight. Random Death Eaters approached her only to feed her, or beat her, or to wash her, which she always thought was strange. They (if you could call them people, for their humanity was lost a long time ago) seemed to take great delight in torturing her, hearing her scream. She couldn't stop screaming. The screaming made her feel human. Hermione hadn't seen sunlight in months, and it showed in her skin. She was now just as pale as the lot of them, except that her fear was palpable. She wasn't sure that the Death Eaters had fear that extended beyond what Voldemort might do to them.

When the door to her cell opened, she cowered from the bit of light that slipped through the door crack and curled into a tight ball. She wasn't in any type of mind frame to be beaten again, or to feel the Crucio spell. She was close to breaking. It was then that she heard the most evil, sinister laugh. Her heart flew into her throat and she could feel the carving in her arm burn. Her thick hair covered her pale face and she took solace in that. The laugh floated through the air, sounding almost childish in its evil tone. As the figure crept closer, Hermione held her breath, heart thumping so loud in her chest that she felt it would burst out of her body at any moment.

As the steps came closer, Hermione shook her head, hair swaying defiantly from side to side. 'nonononononono...' her mind screamed, but nothing actually came out. She wished that it was her mother.

"You made them forget you, little girl – or should I say woman. You are a woman now..." the voice said, finally. The tone was mocking, like little jabs at her insides and soon, she stood over the shaking figure on the ground. "You didn't forget your birthday, did you?" The tone changed to one of mock shock, "we've been waiting for this day for quite some time."

Just then, a bony, thin-skinned arm shot out and gripped a large handful of the frightened girl's hair. She yanked, snapping her neck back so their eyes finally met. "It's time you found out your purpose," she smirked.

Hermione's arm, nowhere near as strong as the witch standing over her, reached up and gripped her wrist. "Let go of me," she cried.

"Let go of me," she mocked her, gripping harder. Her blade came out then, and she touched the pointed blade to her chin. "It would take nothing for me to thrust this into your throat... to watch your worthless blood spill all over this stone floor, you filthy mudblood. Get up," she ordered harshly.

Hermione knew she had no choice. She couldn't remember the last time her opinion came into account, so she stood, legs shaky as her ill-used muscles stretched. Bellatrix kept the firm grip on her hair and pulled her in front of her. She held her defensively, as if at any moment someone would leap from the shadows to kill her and pushed the frightened girl through the corridor to a sitting room. There were a few people sitting on lounges, paying very close attention to the captive and her momentary guard. There were a few candles lit and placed strategically about the room. When they arrived, Bella shoved her to her knees, keeping the firm grip on her hair. Hermione's tattered clothing provided at least some semblance of relief from the hard stone floor when her knees cracked against it. She had no idea why she was here. What more could they do to her that hadn't been done?

All of the eyes in the room immediately went to the girl kneeling on the floor. Bellatrix put her heeled foot on her spine and shoved her forward, into the prostrate position. She whimpered low and shook her head hard. "Please don't hurt me," she cried out.

Everyone laughed, filling the room with shrieks and guffaws. Just then, the doors closed loudly and the room got darker (if that was possible) and even more cold. The noise was quickly silenced and Hermione shook hard, the muscles in her back flexing with her shallow breaths. She knew who it was. Voldemort.

He walked by her, barely giving her a bit of attention, then regally sat on the throne and the rest of the Death Eaters scattered away in a flurry of movement. They flanked him on either side and watched closely, unsure of what the entertainment would be. He looked around the room and his eyes finally settled on the prostrate girl in front of him. His lips curled into a sick smile and he looked at Bellatrix, who was barely containing her excitement. The raven haired woman kept a tight, hard hold of her hair, as though it was a leash.

"May I have my present now, Dark Lord," she purred, "please?" She sounded like a needy child. Excited, almost.

Voldemort nodded, using his wand to make a bed appear in the room. "It is her first time," he said. "Do not break her completely. I have no idea where I might find another like her," he grinned.

Bellatrix clapped and made a gleeful noise, then gripped Hermione's hair. She weakly pushed at her, all of her energy sapped from her lithe body. She shook her head and began to cry, which stopped Bellatrix for a moment. She stepped in close and canted her head like a confused puppy, looking into her wide eyes with her beady black ones. "You don't want to play with me, pet? I had to wait so long for you... until you were no longer a child."

Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach, feeling absolutely ill. Her innocence was about to be taken from her. One of the last things about her that remained in tact. Her family, friends, life, school, freedom, dignity... and now this. At the hands of a woman, even. She always imagined it would be Ron to take her first. He would have been go gentle, awkward, but gentle... always with a joke or two along the way, which would have frustrated her, but only for the briefest moment. Her bottom lip trembled in fear, matching her kneecaps, which were shaking uncontrollably.

She was dragged to the bed and cuffed to it, arms, legs each cuffed with the heavy metal shackles, her legs and arms spread wide apart. She couldn't hide, or struggle. What was left of her modesty was then sliced from her frame. Bellatrix had her knife out, and she was not being gentle with it. She nicked her skin, giggling softly with each prick as the blood trickled over her pale skin. Everyone watched in reverent silence as she stripped the girl, now a woman, leaving her completely naked and trembling on the large bed.

Bellatrix took her time, scratching her virgin skin with her knife and delighting in the dots of blood that gathered at the surface of her skin. Hermione screamed and begged her to stop, yanking on her arms and kicking her legs defiantly. She knew she was caught, but she couldn't take this anymore. She needed to fight for something, and if it would be anything, it had to be this. Her fighting only egged Bella on more and she jammed the blade into the mattress at the crux of her sex. If Hermione moved too much, it would slice her in two. That immediately calmed her movements, but intensified her fear.

The dark witch climbed over her and slipped her fingers over the blood, making patterns on her smooth skin. "How does it feel mudblood? Being over powered by the superior race..." she leaned down and bit her light pink nipple, teeth gnashing. It illicited a scream from deep within the girl and she gasped for air, not quite able to make it fill her lungs completely. Bellatrix smirked and flicked her other nipple while she sucked on the one in her mouth. "Have you ever been touched, sweet pet?"

Hermione shook her head, "never," she said.

"Good. It will be much easier to train you to enjoy this..." She purred and leaned in, kissing her savagely, using her tongue and teeth to devour the girl. When Bella got the first taste of Hermione's blood in her mouth, she immediately pulled back and spat in her face. "Disgusting... I can taste your filth," she growled.

Hermione flinched hard and felt ill as Bella ripped the knife from between her legs. She stabbed the bed further away, then straddled her and bit her neck while her hands continued to make patterns with the blood, like a child with fingerpaint.

"You are quite beautiful, and you are all mine now. My birthday gift from the Dark Lord was you... all for me. A little pet. A sex slave that I can do whatever I want with. My own personal whore."

Hermione began to cry then. "Please..." she begged, "please stop this. I will do anything," she pleaded.

All she got in response was a harsh chuckle. "Continue, Bellatrix," Voldemort said, petting Nagiri idly.

The dark witch got on with it then, knowing that her gift could so easily be snatched away from her. She slapped her breast, playing at her nipples, and then licked down her body. She got to her sex and put a charm on the girl. She wanted her to like it... to crave it and come for her ravenously. Hermione felt herself slipping away and she burst into tears as she moaned. Bella's tongue probed at her sex, parting her lips and seeking out her clit.

Hermione gasped and arched her hips high, bucking them hard against the witch's face. Bella only laughed harshly and forced three fingers into the girl, breaking right through her hymen, destroying her last resistance. Hermione screamed again, shaking hard from the pain. Bellatrix ripped her fingers from her and held her hand up, blood and wetness glistening from her fingertips. She went to take them into her mouth, then paused and scurried to Voldemort. The dark lord smiled sinisterly at her and took her fingers into her mouth, lapping at the last of the girl's innocence. As Harmione lay there sobbing, Voldemort tasted her sweetness and devoured her before pushing the dark witch off of his lap. "Go... finish what you have started."

Bella stalked back to the bed and pounced, fingers thrusting deeply into the helpless girl while her tongue expertly worked her clit. Hermione screamed and begged for her to stop, but she wasn't sure that that was what she wanted anymore. Was she enjoying this? Why was her stomach tightening, legs quaking as though it was something she wanted? She had touched herself many times before she was trapped here, the feelings were the same. She was ashamed. She defiantly shook her head and cried out.

"Come for me, little one... give in, give me everything," Bellatrix purred, not letting up.

Hermione screamed and came, calling out Bellatrix's name, her body racked with guilt, shame, and, to her surprise pleasure. Bella merely sat up and pulled out her wand, pointing it at her and casting a Crucio spell, cackling as Hermione screamed again in horror and pain, yanked hard on her bound limbs, then passed out in the bed.

The Death Eaters burst into applause and Voldemort stood, walking to the bed where the girl lay unconscious. He kissed Bellatrix deeply and stroked her cheek almost gently. "Happy birthday, darling girl..." He left the room after that, instructing someone to bathe Hermione. She would be moved to a room near Bellatrix, to use as she desired from then on.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I'm still trying to work out where I am going to go with this story. If anyone would like to offer advice, I am totally open to it. :)

Hermione came to as she was being carried by a faceless Death Eater and her eyes rolled back into her head. She was still racked with excruciating pain from the Crucio as well as the rest of what she endured at the hands of Bellatrix. She didn't know where she was being taken, as she had never been to this part of the house before. She certainly wasn't going back to her cell, which caused her heart to leap into her throat. Did they think she was dead? She had to do something, make a movement, so she began to squirm and she took a big, gasping breath of air into her lungs, then cried out, "I'm alive!"

The Death Eater's face did not change, as he was wearing the mask with his robe. If he wasn't going to be tasked with doing something interesting, there was no point in showing his face. He held her tightly, immune to her pathetic squirming and carried her into a bathroom. It was well appointed, with dark stone and tile, and there was a bath already drawn in the centre of the room. He laid her in the water and left her there. Even if she was nothing more than a mudblood, he assumed she knew how to bathe herself. He left the room and locked the door.

Hermione winced, her voice having gone hoarse from screaming. She shuddered hard and lay in the water, watching it tinge pink. Her blood. She'd seen enough of her blood in her captivity that she was becoming unsure if it was still muddy. Her mind reeled as she went over in her mind what had happened. She'd been given to Bellatrix as a gift. Did that mean she was owned by her? Or was that for only a night? If it was for a night, what else had they planned for her? If she was owned by her... what did that mean? Surely under Bellatrix's care she would not live long. Hermione imagined that the lifespan of anything in the dark witch's care was living on borrowed time.

As she laid in the water, she wished she had her bag, or, better, her wand. She could heal herself a little, give herself some comfort. When she felt the water begin to go cold, she picked up the soap and washed herself as gently as possible, grateful to be alone to keep from hurting herself further. The more her mind went back to what happened, the more angry she became. Hermione was losing herself, that was certain.

Soon, she washed her body, her anger causing her to scrub herself raw. As she passed over each mark, cut, or bite, she tried to scrub it away. Her pale body was now an angry red and even though she had used soap and washed her hair, she felt dirty. Not because she had been for all intents and purposes raped, but because she allowed it to happen. Where was her Gryffindor fight? Where was her sense of pride? Her sense of self?

The moment she stood, someone appeared in the doorway with a towel, black robe, and undergarments. She took them and covered herself, hissing when the towel touched bare, raw skin. She took advantage of it to punish herself further by rubbing the towel roughly over herself to dry. Ron popped into her head at that moment and she fell to her knees, bursting into tears. She'd hoped they would save her... her best friends. The figure in the door gave an annoyed sigh and gruffly told her to dress. She obeyed immediately and the Death Eater gripped her arm roughly, then took her across the hall, locking her in a small bedroom.

Hermione looked at her new surroundings and began to cry again. There was an actual bed... with linens, and a pillow. A book shelf full of books. She rushed to it and ran her hand along the spines of the books, sobbing. These people gave her books. It was too much to bare. The girl sat on the bed and looked around, fingering her robe nervously. What now?

She stood after some time, enjoying the freedom of movement she had acquired, and walked back to the bookshelf. She looked more closely at the books and wondered if any of them had some type of spell she could do without her wand, or a potion she could create from commonly found household objects. She pulled one from the shelf, an ancient text written in Parseltongue, and tried to read it. She was not skilled in the language. In fact, she had an aversion to it. There was something incredibly dark about the way the words sounded when they were spoken. She placed the book back on the shelf and grabbed a common book of potions. She took it back to her bed and laid down, whimpering when she was fully stretched on the bed. It felt like lying on a cloud.

She cracked the book open and whimpered happily when she heard the noise she had missed so much. The scent of the paper immediately invaded her nostrils and she began to read. She had read the book countless times before, but she didn't care. It felt like the first time. She fell asleep with the book next to her.

Unfortunately, it was not a gentle, peaceful sleep. She was racked with nightmares and had horrible visions of what might become of her. She woke numerous times in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

In another room, Bellatrix sat at Voldemort's feet. "She does not rest," he said, petting the witch's curls.

"Can I go play with her?" Bella asked, a smirk forming on her thin lips.

"No. We will leave her for the next two nights. I would like her to understand the freedom she gains by being obedient." He stopped watching the girl and then sat back. "You are dismissed." He put a spell on the door of Hermione's room. No one could enter unless he allowed it, and only Hermione could leave and go back in. She had access only to the bathroom across the hall. It could cause her excruciating pain to wander further.

Hermione woke a few hours later and crept from her bed. She needed the bathroom desperately and wondered just how difficult that venture would be. She approached the door and was shocked when it opened, just like any normal door would. Hermione stepped out of the room cautiously, fearing a trap, and crept across the hall, relieved the the bathroom door opened. She went, then washed her hands, and by the time she arrived in her bedroom, there was breakfast waiting for her. As with everything else, she approached the table cautiously, then sat down. The smell of the food invaded her nostrils and soon, she was ravenously eating.

She could not remember the last time she'd eaten a real meal and her stomach was in knots after consuming it so quickly. She laid in bed and rubbed her stomach, trying to force it to remain there.

The hours passed and she eventually fell asleep again, but it wasn't restful this time either.

This repeated for the next two days. The door to her room opened and Bellatrix stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the wood while she observed the girl lying on the bed, having a fitful sleep. Finally, she rolled her eyes and pulled her wand out, striking her with a Crucio and laughing hard when Hermione woke with a horrified scream, writhing on the bed as her blood boiled and her skin felt like it was set on fire.

"Miss me, pet?"


End file.
